Friday, September 15, 2006: Goblin Valley S.P., UT to Ely, NV

Happy birthday, Mom!

Thunderstorm last night. Laika barked at every sound, mostly the flapping of the rain fly over the tent, before finally tunneling down to our feet in the sleeping bag. We wake warm and dry, the storm having passed. I discover that a wet tent packs smaller than a dry one; also that land wider than its height is a mesa, taller than wide is a butte; and taller, thinner structures are needles or spires. Goblins, also sometimes called Hoodoos, are something else, somewhat like spires, I guess, but looking like oversized toadstools. This is a great place to stay for a night—even a dark and stormy one.

And a nice spooky place for stormy nights! A thunderstorm comes through in the morning as we make coffee. I pull out my rain suit and put it on, but we are spared the center of the storm as it passes southwest of us. I count the seconds between lightning strikes and thunderclaps, but it never gets closer than three.

Laika and I have a short walk, down the road past the campsites, which ends at a 4x4 road. She's a little skittish from the storms, and she's cold and shivering. But soon she's happy to dig in the red dirt...now wet clay, surrounding our campsite.

I had hoped that we might be able to do a short hike up nearby Little Wildhorse Canyon, but remembered seeing a web site about a flash flood in that area. I don't know enough about how to read the weather conditions in this kind of terrain. (As it turns out, the flash flood was in Bell Canyon, and we would have been fine in Little Wild Horse Canyon). I'm eager to do a hike where Laika can be unleashed, but we'll have to wait for another opportunity.

Before leaving Goblin State Park, we visit the Valley of the Goblins, a place that's crazy with hoodoos. And of course, we can't resist a stop at the visitor center/gift shop on the way out. The ranger is friendly and gives us a nice guide to Utah State Parks. Clearly, they're spending money on these parks, and it makes me a little sad to know we'll be leaving the state today.

Outside of the visitor center, Laika finds tracks that look like deer and eagerly tries to follow them. The ranger tells me that a family of pronghorns had been hanging out near the gates that morning. Later on our drive out, we get wonderful close views of another family. Pronghorns are amazing; to me they seem incredibly exotic. With their striking markings and interesting horn/skull structure on the males, they look like they should be roaming the earth with prehistoric creatures like wooly mammoths and saber-toothed tigers.

Also on our way out we see a large raptor in the distance, flying and then landing on a fencepost. I'm delighted to have my binoculars...it's a Prairie Falcon, a bird that's rare in our neck of the woods, and I get a nice long view to drink in before it flies again. At first I think it's a Peregrine because the moustache is so distinct, but then realize from its dusty brown back, and because it's definitely not a "helmet", that this is a Prairie.

We spend the morning driving west. the entire way dotted as "scenic" on the map in the atlas, the Interstate giving way to U.S. Highway 50. Short of Rte. 66 fame, Rte 50 also used to go coast to coast, from Ocean City, MD to San Francisco, CA. The segment ahead, through Nevada, is nicknamed "The Loneliest Road in America."

We see a raptor that I can't name from the picture, and more pronghorns.

We stop at Great Basin National Park without actually getting in and seeing anything. We continue to Ely, NV, where we find a nice place for the night, in spite of the many cars there for the "Silver State Classic."

"For those unfamiliar with the Silver State Classic Challenge, it is an open road race that takes place on a 90-mile stretch of Nevada's Highway 318, just south of the town of Ely. The race is separated into 15 categories with average speeds of 95 to 180 mph in 5-mph increments."

The first clue should've been the number of Corvettes in the area.

When I go to cross the street for dinner, I find a parade of cars that will be racing tomorrow (presumably). A couple stands there, taking a picture of every car. I leave it to you to find those photos on the Web...

Then, report to the "Office."

Later, when I go out to find dinner and supplies, I find that we've been enveloped by a dust storm. The sun is too high in the sky to be such a dirty orange, and my eyes sting from the dust.